— 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱 —

━━━━━━ ☽【❖】☾ ━━━━━━

"Isn't this a little much?" I asked Cypress, but my stylist just tilted back his head and laughed.

"Honey, this isn't even close to what I originally envisioned," Cypress admitted almost as if disappointed. "Caius told me to dial it back."

"You planned to send her out with a crown of sparkles," Caius growled.

"You're still mad," I noted.

"I said no higher than an eight," Caius snapped. "And that was being generous. I really didn't want higher than a six, but no. You went and doubled that with a perfect fucking score!"

My eyes widened with alarm at the increase of his volume. I'd only seen glimpses of his anger, but never directed toward Harlan or myself.

"I wasn't trying to get a twelve," I tried to defend myself. "I just needed to get their attention."

"By poisoning your opponent?" Caius questioned with an incredulous look.

"He didn't die," I said as if that made any difference. "And it certainly caught their attention.

"Along with the rest of panem," Caius countered pointedly. He then pinched the bridge of his nose before dragging his hand down his face. "So now we've got to play this up."

"What?"

"You need to be the Capitol's darling tonight," Caius continued. "Whatever it takes to get that audience on your side because once you step foot inside that arena you are going to need all the support you can get to keep yourself and that kid alive."

"So how strong of a poison was it?" Cypress asked while addressing the headdress that he'd made. It was much subtler than the spoked crown from the parade; however, it could still be recognized as a crown.

"I scratched him," I replied. "I think it was a little over a minute when he started seizing."

"Color me impressed." Cypress nodded then took a step back to look at his craftmanship. "Perfect. Absolutely Flawless."

"I better be," I scoffed. "My arms were red for ten minutes after all the scrubbing. Was that really necessary after everything I went through in preparation for the tribute parade?"

"Honey," Cypress chuckled. "Art doesn't stick to a dirty canvas. You need to prep it each time you intend to use it."

"How's Harlan doing?" I asked Caius while keeping still so Cypress could continue undisturbed. I'd made the mistake of moving the first time around, and it was not something I'd like to repeat.

"He's doing fine," Caius replied. "Esmé's with him now. As much as I give her a hard time, she's better than most of the Capitol's cronies. Besides you worry about the kid too much. There—"

"Can only be one," I agreed, finishing the statement I'd heard at least a dozen times before. "Yeah, I know. But if one of us is getting out of this arena, I'm making sure it's him."

Caius lifted his brow with curiosity. He'd obviously noted how protective I was of the boy, but he'd never taken the time to ask about my most prominent weakness.

"Why's the kid so important to you?" he asked. "Please tell me this isn't a repeat of the fifty-eighth games."

"The fifty-eighth?" I asked. "That's oddly specific."

Caius scoffed. "The poisoning, making everyone discredit you, the suicidal tendency to recklessly throw your life away. Are you planning to make a fool of yourself tonight on national television?"

"She better not," a warning look entered Cypress's eye. "I did not spend hours on this dress just to be ridiculed."

"No, I'm not planning any of that," I contradicted, almost insulted by the association. "And I'm not suicidal. I just know the stakes of getting that little boy home."

"But why do you care so much?"

"I made a promise."

"Promises mean nothing during the games."

"He reminds me of my little brother! Okay?" I finally snapped. I took a breath then looked Caius in the eye unwaveringly. "No one was there to protect Marcus. He died alone for the entertainment of the public. I didn't volunteer. I was chosen. And so, if I was chosen to die on the same soil as my brother protecting another little boy, I don't think that's the worst way to go. I don't expect to win, but they're going to have a hell of time trying to put me in the ground."

"Alright." Caius nodded his head. "Then what's your plan?"

"Harlan and I have formed an alliance with district ten," I explained. "There are pros and cons to that, but it will keep us alive longer."

"You trust them?"

I shook my head. "We just have a common interest for now."

"Don't forget that," Caius warned. "And don't get comfortable around them."

"I'm working on public favor," I continued to explain the bits and pieces of a plan that I'd been working on most of the day. It wasn't complete, and I doubted it ever would be. "I genuinely didn't think my score would be so high, but I might as well use it now. I need you to work the crowd on this side once we enter the arena."

"So much for balance," Caius scoffed under his breath.

I allowed a small smile to tug on the corner of my lips as I softly reminded him, "I told you it was contradictory."

"You can't hide a sun beneath a rag," Cypress seemed to agree, even though he hadn't been present for the first conversation. "And that's the final touch there... You're ready."

"I'm not sure I'll ever be ready," I disagreed.

"It's too late to turn back," Caius said, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's time to step out there and let that fire shine."

"Y'know, they say fire and grain is a bad combination," I said quietly, looking down at the gold links of my dress. "Maybe that's why I hated the harvest."

"Maybe you're right," Caius said, a smirk forming at his lips. "Maybe you were meant to be something greater. A goddess looking out for the little guy."

"Oh, not you too." I laughed at the nickname that had been circling every conversation.

"It's catchy," Cypress added his input. "You're welcome."

"Yes, thank you," I continued to laugh, a rare sound heard these days. "Alright, are there any strings I need to know about this time?"

Cypress shook his head. "Don't rely on the dress, honey. The dress relies on you this time."

I took a deep breath then stepped out into the hall to join Harlan before we stepped out onto the stage with our heads held high. The lights were bright, but even then I could still feel the stares of the other tributes. Their envy was poorly masked, especially from the female tribute of district two. I kept my hand locked with Harlan's and together we took our seats on the end beside Rex and Honey.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Your master of ceremonies..." the announcing voice brought the spotlight to the center of the stage. "Caesar Flickerman!"

"Thank you!" Flickerman exclaimed with a laugh and a quick bow. "Thank you!"

I was amazed by the volume of his, currently, bright pink hair. It had taken two cans of hair spray just to keep all my curls in place—and they were down around my right shoulder. I couldn't even imagine how much prep went into his look.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome," Flickerman addressed the crowd. "To the 72nd Annual Hunger Games! Now, we all have five minutes that they are all going to be out here. All of the Tributes that you heard about. Are you excited? Let me hear it!"

The crowd erupted with cheers. Flickerman laughed then introduced the candidate of the first interview, slowly going down the line—one by one—spending a precise five minutes with each.

"From District Two, the boy with a stare of ice," Flickerman introduced the next tribute, "Romulus Lovera!"

And unlike anyone had seen him before, Romulus had a bright smile on his face and a swagger to his step. A few screams erupted from the crowd once they moved past the initial moment of surprise. He winked in the direction of a few ladies before blowing a kiss that made one swoon. Flickerman looked impressed by the transformation as Romulus took the seat at his side, tossing back the coattails of his suit as he did.

"My, my," Flickerman looked Romulus over. "You're practically unrecognizable tonight. I know it's the first question on my mind, so the audience must be dying to know who is this new Romulus."

"New. Old. A person's never just one thing, Caesar," Romulus laughed and the crowd laughed along. "I've just finally found my place in the pack."

"That's right," Flickerman agreed. "The people have taken to calling you the lone wolf."

"The whole stoic act was just a way to look at my competition without giving anything away," Romulus admitted. "And I doubt I'll be much of a lone wolf following the victory tour, if you know what I mean."

Flickerman laughed, nudging Romulus's arm. "So is that to say there isn't a young woman who's caught your eye?"

"Not yet," Romulus agreed. However, there was a subtle moment where I noticed his eyes drift back offstage as if that wasn't quite true. He then laughed. "Although I've heard we walk in the presence of a goddess."

"You must mean the tribute of district nine," Flickerman caught on. "A vibrant young thing, and the tribute with the highest evaluation score."

"Certainly impressive," Romulus agreed. "I eagerly await the moment we meet on the battlefield."

"A goddess versus a wolf," Flickerman noted the comparison. "That doesn't seem like much of a fair fight."

Romulus chuckled, almost as if agreeing before shaking his head. "Have you heard the legends of the Roman Empire, Caesar?"

"I'm sure they're tucked away in some corner of my mind," Flickerman nodded.

"You see, the Romans may have worshipped the gods, but their city was named after but a man," Romulus explained. "And so if the name of a man can outlive the gods, I think my chances to do the same are high."

"A bold claim." Flickerman chuckled as he turned his attention back to the crowd, "And unfortunately all the time we have before we greet the next tribute from District Two: Rena Corvinus!"

I stopped listening to most of the interviews following that one. In my mind, it hardly made sense to mention me during another interview when the objective was to earn favor for oneself. However, I finally understood when it came time for me to step out onto the stage.

"From District Nine..." Flickerman drew out the introduction. "You know her as Queen of the Heavens! Whereas we know her as the stunning Juneaux Kirchoff!"

I took a deep breath then allowed myself to glide out onto the stage. I imaged myself like a grain in the wind, and did my best to mimic the motion of grace as I took a seat beside Flickerman.

"I know it's hardly a throne," Flickerman joked, "and believe me when I tried to have one flown in—but I'm afraid this is all we have."

"It's perfect," I consoled the jest then took a chance on adding one of my own, "I prefer the world of mortals anyway."

Flickerman laughed and so did the rest of the crowd. I could feel their eyes staring, gazing as if I was a star fallen from the sky. Flickerman then cleared his throat, jumping straight into the interview with a wide smile. "You've made quite the impression since you've joined us here at the Capitol. Why don't you tell us about your journey?"

"I was just a small farm girl from district nine," I replied. "Unlike the rumors floating around, I didn't fall from the skies and I didn't volunteer. I was selected by a stroke of bad luck—"

"Bad luck?" Flickerman questioned to fill the silence when I cut myself off.

My smile had faltered for a second, believing I misspoke, but I moved passed the moment putting on an even brighter smile. "Well, that's what I believed at first. Now, I wonder if fate didn't intervene."

"How so?" Flickerman asked with intrigue.

"Maybe I did fall from the skies," I played along. "Maybe fate volunteered on my behalf to charge me as a protector of a child who needs reminded of his own strength."

"Are you saying you don't intend to win the games?" Flickerman asked, gasping in shock. "But your evaluation score was so high and the odds are surely in your favor."

"A victor is defined by the outcome of the games," I replied, my voice strong and unwavering as I voiced my belief. "A Champion embraces fate even at the expense of their own downfall so that another may rise."

"And what of the wolf that challenges your reign?" Flickerman questioned. And that's when I realized why he'd done it. For if I was mentioned in his, there wasn't a way he could be avoided in mine. It was like we were entwined, two individuals clawing at one crown... only I was trying to hand mine off to successor.

"I shall tell him the same as I told the gamemakers," I replied, standing from my seat to look the camera's head-on. My gaze was stoic, taking the initial approach that the wolf had discarded. "Beware my wrath."

"Chills," Flickerman shuddered. "Well, you heard it for yourselves people, the goddess doesn't just share her benevolence with anyone. And speaking of those who've earned her benevolence, our second tribute from District Nine: Harlan Undergrove."

I offered Harlan a look of encouragement as he stepped out on to the stage. And as much as I wanted to listen and support him, I practically collapsed once I stepped off the stage. Cypress and Caius had rushed forward to support me, escorting me away despite my protests to stay.

"Brilliant, my darling!" Esmé cheered as I was brought back into the private room where she was waiting with open arms. Her embrace remained empty as Caius set me down in a chair.

"Get some cool rags," Caius instructed. Esmé opened her mouth to likely comment how fetching things were beneath her; however, Caius growled and shot her a warning look. She harrumphed then her heel clicked together as she clipped down the hall. Caius placed a hand on my arm as he bent down to look up into my downturned eyes. "You did great, kid. They loved it."

"I feel like a fraud..."

"Why? Because you're not a snob like the rest of them?" Caius asked.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Esmé grumbled as she walked back into the room with a bucket of ice water and some rags.

"How am I actually going to protect him once we step foot inside that arena?" I asked. "It's a great thought and so much easier to say out loud. A million things could go wrong—"

"And a million things could go right," Caius countered. "I had my doubts in the beginning, but you've got a chance with the public backing you up. The gamemakers will keep you alive as long as they can because you are the Capitol's entertainment."

"I feel like a pet being paraded about," I admitted.

"It sucks," Caius agreed, "But if it's what it takes to keep you alive, then it's worth it. Now I want you to head back to your room and get some rest."

"But Harlan—"

"I'll be waiting for him," Caius confirmed. "And I'll send him to your room once he's finished. Let the light dim tonight, you need to be brighter than ever tomorrow."

I begrudgingly agreed, allowing Esmé to guide me back to my room. We stumbled once or twice as I tripped on my own heels—not enough to hurt anything, but enough to know that I should walk the rest of the way back barefooted. The lights remained off as I made my way into the bedroom, sinking into the comforter with a tense sighed. It wasn't until I felt Harlan snuggle up beside me—maybe fifteen minutes later—that I felt at ease. I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and muttered a silent prayer to the fates above so that I might not fail. And that's when the cold reality finally set in that tomorrow could be our last day to breathe. And the fire dimmed, but was stoked once more by the morning crest of a sun that claimed me as its own.